


I Want to Wake Up With You

by agoodpersonrose



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Dramatic David Rose, Established Relationship, Kissing, Late Night Conversations, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Marriage, Patrick Brewer loves David Rose, Sleeping Together, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:08:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25975693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agoodpersonrose/pseuds/agoodpersonrose
Summary: "Goodnight David.""Goodnight Patrick."David and Patrick's relationship as shown by their sleeping habits.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 15
Kudos: 229





	I Want to Wake Up With You

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the RA discord, blackandwhiteandrose, Tailor1971, and thescholasticskipper for the inspirational chat, and also to fairmanor as always for being beta for all my stressing 🌼

**2 Weeks**

The first time David stays at Patrick’s for a sleepover is only two weeks into their tentative new relationship. After the honestly embarrassing _dead guy at the motel_ debacle, he had been overly cautious with not pushing Patrick too far, but apparently there was no need. 

After a lovely meal in what was likely Elmdale’s finest dining establishment, they stopped the car on a dirt track to make out like teenagers over the console, as was becoming routine. 

Patrick is pliant under David’s hands, eagerly pushing into his space with soft lips and firm hands holding him in place. David’s head is spinning under the careful ministrations of Patrick’s tongue, and it’s making him woozy thinking about all the things that tongue can do, as recently discovered in a moment of desperate privacy in the backroom of the store. 

They should try that again. No time like the present. 

He is just about to make his pitch; kissing down Patrick’s neck and biting and licking at the porcelain skin he uncovers under Patrick’s dark blue button down when he is beaten to the punch. 

“Do you want to stay over tonight?” Patrick asks, pulling back from the kiss to give them both a moment to breathe. 

“You mean like, a sleepover?” David furrows his eyebrows as he tries to catch his breath and unscramble the words in his brain. 

Patrick snorts, “If you want to call it that, sure. I just don’t want tonight to be over just yet. Ray is in so, I can’t promise privacy. But I can promise a pretty comfortable double bed, and my company, if you want it.”

He looks bashfully at his hands which have tangled together in his lap as if forcing himself not to reach out, while David catches up with the conversation. “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, yeah. Of course, I mean. I want that too.”

Patrick’s smile is gleeful as he straightens up in his sleep. “Shall we head there now?”

“Yes, let’s go.”

They drive the rest of the way to Schitt’s Creek, but instead of Patrick dropping David off at the motel with a kiss and a fond goodbye, they head straight to Ray’s. David is extraordinarily prepared for all situations and already has a change of clothes and toilet bag packed and ready to go so there is nothing stopping them heading back together. 

Patrick is struck by how domestic the feeling is of climbing out of his car with David following him, heading into the house with no intention of leaving for the night. David doesn’t seem quite so affected by this as he tangles their fingers together and follows Patrick in, nattering happily about Stevie or maybe Alexis.

They fumble around each other as they both try to complete their evening traditions in the same space. Working out bathroom routines and sides of the bed until finally they are both lying under the covers, face to face in the dark room and equally unsure of how to proceed. 

“I had a really nice time tonight, David.” Patrick whispers, already missing the sight of David’s bashful grin when he says something earnest. 

“Me too. I’ve, um- I’ve never actually done this before. So, thank you for inviting me to stay here tonight.”

Patrick frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Like, the whole sleepover without mutual orgasms thing,” David stutters out, clearly embarrassed. Patrick fondly tucks away the knowledge that a tired David with a full stomach is powerlessly truthful.

“Did you want to exchange mutual orgasms? Because I can be up for it if you are.”

David lets out a breathy laugh and reaches over to push at Patrick’s shoulder so that he’s lying on his back, his preferred position anyway. “Go to sleep, perv.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say to someone that you like, David. Someone that you like spending _time_ with, and _kissing._ ” Patrick teases, his exhaustion making him culpable to his own slips of the tongue.

“Weirdo.” David says, but the smile is audible in his voice. 

Patrick smiles and doesn’t reply, keeping his breathing slow and even and closing his eyes. Sleep takes him swiftly and easily with David’s soft warmth beside him. 

When he wakes, he opens his eyes to see he and David had stayed largely to their own sides of the bed, except that both had rolled towards each other in the night. Their faces are close enough that Patrick can make out every individual freckle and whitehead around David’s eyes. He counts his eyelashes calmly, not worried about needing to rush up and go to the store, knowing that David will likely be asleep for a while longer and therefore is unlikely to catch him in the act.

Except--

“Good morning, Patrick!” Ray exclaims, barging through the door and making David jump awake, his head clanging against Patrick’s as he tries to get away from the source of the noise. 

Patrick groans, holding a hand up to his head which is thankfully undamaged, and wincing as light fills the room. 

“Oh, and David! What a treat! I’ll get some breakfast started for you boys. You’d better come down before the coffee gets cold! No time for hanky-panky!”

He’s gone before either of them can complain. David is frowning, seeming still unsure of his surroundings as he slowly wakes up. 

“Hanky-panky.” Patrick mutters, shaking his head sadly. That certainly killed his morning erection. 

“Ugh, what--” David moans, still rubbing at his forehead. “Were you watching me sleep?”

Patrick blushes, reaching up to push David back into the cushions with a hand on the front of his head. “No, David. You’re still dreaming,” he whispers, taking joy in the fond smile he had somehow managed to wrangle out of him even with the early morning interruptions. 

“Dreaming about you.” David mumbles, barely coherent as he snuggles back into the mattress. 

All in all it’s a pretty perfect first night.

  
  
  


**2 Months**

_“Patrick?”_

David looks over carefully at his sleeping boyfriend who doesn’t stir. He’s lying flat on his back as usual, head tilted up and mouth just slightly open as he lets out deep repetitive breaths. 

David bites his lip, looking over at the door nervously before turning back to Patrick and shaking his arm slightly. _“Patrick!”_ he hisses again, barely dodging out the way as Patrick jumps awake and almost swings his arm at David’s face. 

_“Wha-the._ Where?” he mumbles confusedly.

If David weren’t scared out of his wits in this moment, he would probably be swooning over his adorable boyfriend, rubbing at his eyes in confusion and blinking slowly.

As it is, David is far too distracted by the life-threatening circumstances to really enjoy himself.

“David? What’s wrong?” Patrick asks, switching straight into comforting mode and reaching out a hand to hold David’s arm. “Are you okay?”

“I heard a noise.”

“You-- What? What do you mean?”

“Something moved downstairs, Patrick,” David whines. 

“I-- It’s probably just Ray getting a drink or something. Go back to sleep.”

He flops backwards onto the pillow with one arm over his eyes, a clear dismissal of the situation. 

David nods, “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He tries to go back to sleep, curling away from the door towards Patrick. Nice, dependable Patrick, who could be murdered in his sleep if the noise was indeed a break-in. “Although--”

Patrick groans piteously as David sits up again, jostling the sheets. 

“What if it’s not. What if someone steals all Ray’s stuff? What if they come upstairs?”

David is spiralling now, and Patrick sighs in acceptance, nodding slowly and agreeing to what David is trying to ask.

“Fine, David. I’ll go and check.”

Patrick slips out from under the sheets. He’s wearing the god-awful plaid pyjama boxers which bag around his thighs and don’t even let David see any shape. In contrast, his blue shirt is tight on his biceps, and is only improved as he reaches over to the foot of his wardrobe and grabs his baseball bat, holding it up dramatically as if to prove a point. 

“Be safe,” David whispers, still sitting on the bed and watching him slip out of the door, illuminated by the corridor night light Ray insists on keeping on, before disappearing from sight. 

He listens to the creak of the stairs as Patrick makes his way down them, and burrows himself further into the covers, already imagining the worst.

_Patrick will get to the bottom of the stairs and sigh, looking at a shadowed figure at the kitchen sink. “Oh, it’s just you, Ray. You really freaked David out, he thought there was an intruder.”_

_The shadowed figure will be turning around by now, revealing an axe-- or no, a_ chainsaw _in his hands. It wasn’t Ray at all, it was a--_

“So, I might have just traumatised Ray,” Patrick says, re-appearing in the bedroom and dropping his baseball bat softly to the ground. “We should probably get him something nice to make up for it, although we should be thankful he didn’t break his favourite mug when he dropped it.”

He clambers back onto the bed, slipping under the covers. His limbs are cool from the night air as he settles back down next to David. 

“Can I go back to sleep now?” He asks, his moody voice too cute to have any real effect on David’s mood, who just shuffles in close and throws an arm over Patrick’s body. 

“My hero,” he whispers, kissing Patrick until he becomes more pliant under him, his lips curving into a bashful grin as David peppers him with thanks. 

“Oh, it was nothing.”

“I should probably sleep close to you just in case Ray decides to take revenge in the night,” David mutters, burrowing his head against Patrick’s shoulder. “So that you can protect me.”

“Whatever makes you feel safe, David,” Patrick replies, closing his eyes again and reaching an arm up to wrap around David. He presses a kiss to David’s hair before relaxing back into a dream-like state, the slow rise and fall of his chest lulling David back to peacefulness. 

  
  
  


**6 Months**

_He should probably find the ants before Ray realised they were missing. That vet bill was going to be expensive. Patrick crawls on the floor looking for--_

“Huh--what--?”

Patrick wakes with a start as something makes an impact on his chest. He almost jumps into a sitting position but is held down by the weight of something on him. The weight of David on him, it seems, who had only grown more affectionate since they had declared their love for each other a few days before. 

David’s head digs into Patrick’s collarbone unpleasantly as he tries to squirm closer. Their legs are tangled and David has his hands splayed across Patrick’s bare stomach and chest, so it’s not certain how much closer they could possibly get.

Patrick sinks into the moment for a while, using his free (although granted, slightly numb) hand to card through his boyfriend’s hair, messing it up and taking the most of the opportunity to do so without getting in trouble.

Unfortunately, as Patrick had discovered a few months previously, around the time David had begun feeling truly comfortable staying with him at Ray’s, David is always in a constant state of movement when asleep.

He rolls around before going drifting off, kicks his legs out during particularly energetic dreams, and, as recently revealed, now gets extremely clingy when something has happened that makes him upset, emotional, or just plain fond of his boyfriend. 

For this phase, the base of his affection is rooted in their recent love confessions, although he had also done so in the past when Patrick had been away for a few nights at a tax seminar, when he had remembered to buy David’s favourite cereal at the store, and whenever Patrick got anxious. 

It would be sweet. It _is_ sweet, except every time it happens, Patrick barely gets to sleep at all. It’s all well and good David hugging him, or cuddling up to him, if he would just settle down and choose a position. 

Patrick groans as David flops further onto him, his shoulder now twisted and digging into Patrick’s neck, and face pressed against his cheek. 

Patrick silently untangles himself from the embrace and steps out of it. David makes a pathetic keening noise which he can’t help but enjoy, reaching out to try and find Patrick with grabby hands, but, on discovering nothing, settles back on his back, limbs stretched out across the whole length of the bed. 

Giving himself a moment to take in the frankly amusing sight, Patrick stands there with his hands on his hips and a calculating expression on his face. If he gets back into the bed, on either side, he will be trapped under David again within seconds and will have no chance of getting back to sleep. 

Instead, he decides on a different plan. He crawls up the bed silently. He swings his knee over his hips, so that he is straddling David’s starfish impression, wraps his arms around his shoulders, and settles his full weight onto David’s torso to sleep right on top of him. 

That should keep him steady so that Patrick can get some real rest. He has to admit, David makes a comfortable pillow, he snuggles his head down onto his chest and sighs happily. 

He is just reaching the precipice when he feels David stir beneath him. Expecting some annoyed reaction, Patrick steels himself for a confused and annoyed bedmate. Instead, seemingly still unconscious, David tightens his grip around Patrick’s waist and rolls him over.

They hit the pillows side to side, still tangled together but on a more even footing. Patrick is shocked for a moment but soon settles into the new position.

_What a thing to get used to_ , he considers, as David lets out a snuffle and presses closer. 

With the weight off Patrick’s chest, he finally gets back to sleep. 

  
  
  


**1 Year**

The bed sheets are too hot. That’s the issue.

David kicks them off.

Okay, actually, it’s too cold without them. He reaches down and pulls them back.

He sighs, and looks at the ceiling of the apartment. Maybe it’s the light in this room that’s bothering him. He should tell Patrick that he needs to invest in some proper curtains to keep the glow of the streetlights out. 

He is just turning to do so when he pauses. Perhaps not the best idea to wake Patrick up just to tell him that. Instead, David settles on his side, one arm tucked under his head, and watches his boyfriend sleep. 

Patrick snorts a bit, a loud grating sound which makes David wince, and seems to almost wake himself up, before slowing back down and going back to the long calm breaths of his usual slumber. 

This is ridiculous. David looks at the clock. It’s 4am, they have total privacy in Patrick’s new apartment, the world is quiet and the bed is comfortable. His boyfriend is right there sleeping to David’s right side as usual, and yet he still can’t get to sleep. 

He thinks maybe the bed sheets smell funny. They’re brand new and they went through the wash a couple times to get rid of the factory smell, but they weren’t the ones David had requested. He thinks fondly of the silk sheets that Patrick had vetoed on the basis that they were too expensive, he thought they were ugly, and he refused to learn how to get cum stains out of silk. 

That last argument was really the strongest, and David had settled for some cotton sheets from IKEA after Patrick had promised that his new apartment would be stocked up with a new espresso maker to increase the incentive of David staying the night. 

He blankly considers making a coffee for himself now, since getting to sleep is clearly a losing battle. It would make some noise but Patrick is historically extremely hard to wake in the middle of the night, only stirring when the first light of sunrise poked their way through the windows. 

So instead, David tosses and turns, trying to get comfortable on the unfamiliar bed, in the unfamiliar room, with the unfamiliar sounds and smells.

He never thought he’d actually miss Ray’s house. 

He must have been making more ruckus than he had thought, as he is just settling on his left side, facing away from Patrick at the wall, when a warm arm snakes its way around his waist and Patrick’s chest rests on his back. 

“Can’t sleep?” Patrick murmurs, clearly still on the verge of it himself. 

“I’m okay, go back to sleep,” David replies, relaxing into the embrace nevertheless and turning in Patrick’s arms to give himself leverage to rest his head on his chest. 

“What’s keeping you up?”

David chews his lip, “It smells different in here.” He says, suddenly unable to keep the floodgates closed as all the different complaints come pouring out his mouth. “The bed is too firm, and the light outside is bothering me, and it’s too quiet-- Can a place be too quiet? I’m just used to at least a little noise.”

Patrick nods along, his eyes still closed but making clear that he’s listening to David’s little rant. 

“Come here,” he mutters, raising an arm to pull David in closer to his chest as he rolls back onto his back. David follows, burrowing his head under Patrick’s arm and breathing in deeply, and--

_Oh._

That’s better. 

Patrick settles back down and clearly falls back to sleep while David takes deep, calming breaths, surrounded by the smell of Patrick. 

Lying like this, Patrick’s snoring starts up again. Deep rumbling breaths making David’s head vibrate where it’s pressed against him. He smiles and lets the repetitive noises lull him off. 

That’s better. This feels more like home.

  
  
  


**2 Years**

David stays up a little later after Patrick falls asleep that night. It’s not that he’s really scared that it will happen again; he really wasn’t lying when he said that there was no liquid left in his body. 

Patrick did a great job of distracting him for a while, emphasising with soft kisses and warm, wandering hands that nothing has changed between them, that nothing he could do would ever scare him away.

He’s really not that concerned by it anymore. Sure, it was embarrassing. He’s a grown adult wetting the bed over his own excitement. But somehow, he’s not ashamed of it anymore. It was an accident, that doesn’t mean it will become a theme, and even if it did, Patrick’s here for the long run.

David looks over at his fiancé now, sleeping soundly next to him with his shirt off; long sacrificed to cleaning up needs. The blue snoring device makes his breaths sound different; clearer, more whistling. It’s something to get used to after two years of listening to Patrick’s deep snorting, but if it makes him sleep better David won’t complain. 

The mouthguard as well. Patrick’s mouth is hanging far more open than usual, the clear retainer making his teeth shiny. If he’s being truthful, he’s relieved about the mouthguard. Patrick does have a habit of gnawing his teeth in his sleep; usually after a tense day he’ll spend the night grinding and grunting uncomfortably. 

David will lie there helpless to do anything but watch him sleep, stroking his hair softly and whispering sweet endearments that Patrick won’t remember in the morning, but he hopes get through the fog of sleep.

Tonight, he’s breathing peacefully through the nose-plug. David’s new ally, it seems, in ensuring that Patrick gets a good night's sleep. 

He’s going to marry this man. Not that that was ever in doubt. David’s been dreaming, and then hoping, and then finally expecting to marry Patrick for the last two years. Patrick was always it for David; the only one, the last, the final. It’s always been on the horizon. 

Now, it feels closer than ever. His future husband, lying there like an old man. David can see it now; he’ll start balding, like Marcy’s Dad did as David had discovered when looking through photo albums the last time the Brewers visited. 

He’ll get grouchy with old age; fuss about the garden, and his backache. He’ll overexert himself doing his various sports games long after he’s fit enough, and David will have to give him massages just to stop his legs from cramping. 

He’ll still be the most beautiful man David has ever seen.

It’s not been long since Patrick fell asleep, but David risks it anyway, leaning over to press a kiss to the crown of his head. He smooths over the hair fondly and smirks at him for a moment, only to startle when one of Patrick’s eyes snaps open. 

“Are you goin’to shleep?” he mumbles through his mouthguard. 

“What? Sorry I didn’t catch that. Can you say it again?” David teases.

Patrick rolls his eyes, but David just kisses his forehead again, hovering over him to skate a hand down the side of his face, enjoying the texture of Patrick’s stubble against his palm and feeling him push into the sensation as if asking to be petted again. 

“I-- Fought I’d worn you out,” Patrick slurs again, half from tiredness, half from the obstacle in his mouth. 

“I’m not that old yet, honey. I could go another round if you’d like?”

Patrick scoffs, spit collecting under his lip which he wipes away with the back of his arm and pushes at David as retribution for his teasing. 

“Is it both-rin’ you?” Patrick asks, gesturing at the device on his nose.

“No. It’s fine, I’m just going to sleep now.”

“Mm-kay, night night.”

David curls up on his side, facing away from Patrick who strokes a lazy hand up and down his back for a while before his arm drops dead, making clear that he’s fallen back to sleep. 

David screws his eyes up tightly, his joy so palpable it might overwhelm him, and listens to the soft wheezing behind him. 

He’s going to marry that man.

  
  
  


**5 Years**

They’ve been bickering all day.

It’s ridiculous, there’s nothing to bicker about. The store is doing well, they have this beautiful home and perfect marriage. 

Except, Patrick’s team lost at the baseball last weekend and he had been rude to Ronnie. 

Ronnie had then come into the store and tried to rile him up. David usually didn’t like to get involved but he had thought she was coming on a little strong and told her to settle down.

For some reason, Patrick got frustrated that David was intervening and didn’t talk to him all evening. Then the washing machine broke, and the clothes line Patrick had hung in the garden the week before fell down, and the onions in the pasta sauce burned.

They’d spend the evening switching between sullen silence and little arguments. 

Finally, in bed, David turns away from Patrick and curls up on his side. He’s upset and frustrated over a ridiculous day that wasn’t even his fault. He intends on falling asleep quickly as punishment, and staying far away on his side of the bed for the duration of the night. 

“David?” Patrick whispers into the dark, interrupting his silent ranting of annoyance. “David?” He pulls on his husband's arm, trying to get him to turn around and face him but David resists, making a disgruntled noise and pulling the sheets further up over his shoulder. 

“You know, they say the key to a good marriage is to never go to bed angry,” Patrick continues, still tugging on David’s arm. 

“Well it’s a little late for that. We’re already in bed. Might as well just let it happen now.”

Patrick let’s out a breath which could be annoyance or amusement, but David doesn’t care enough to work it out. _Stupid Patrick, and stupid Ronnie, ruining their lovely day, stupid washer. Never wanted the fucking clothes line anyway. Never claimed to be a good cook._

“Thank you for cooking dinner tonight,” Patrick whispers. He continues when David lies in sullen silence, ignoring him. “--and for calling the plumber. And for defending my honour.”

“Don’t know why I bothered since you didn’t even appreciate it,” David replies, curling tighter into a ball. 

“I’m appreciating it now, David.”

“Well, I’d appreciate this apology a lot more in the morning, so. I’m tired, for some reason I had a really shitty day and I just want to sleep.”

He can feel the hurt radiating off Patrick as his arm slips off David’s hip and back to his own side of the bed. He hesitates a moment, suddenly desperate to turn over and throw himself back into his husband’s arms, but the annoyance of the day is still eating away at him. 

“Okay, goodnight David.”

David just hums in response and pretends to be asleep.

Patrick’s breaths even out, he hasn’t put his nose clip in so he’s snoring slightly which is how David knows he’s definitely asleep. He turns over and looks at him slightly sadly. He didn’t mean to snap at Patrick, it's just, he’d had such high hopes for the day.

He lies there for a while cursing everything he can think of before it finally gets too much. 

He can’t go to sleep angry. 

“Patrick?” he whispers, poking at his husband’s arm, crossed over his chest like a loose mummy impersonation. “Patrick, wake up.”

Patrick just snores louder. David feels his temper rising again, and pokes harder. This time, Patrick flails and falls solidly out of the bed, landing heavily on the floor on the other side. 

“What the fuck?” He asks from the floor, blinking around himself with confusion. 

David goes to apologise, but can’t help but laugh at the sight of him. He’s sat up on the floor like a child, looking at the carpet and frowning as if he can’t work out how he got there. 

Patrick looks up as David giggles unreservedly, lying back in the bed to catch his breath. 

“Do you feel better now, David? Did that make you feel better?” he asks, with attitude.

“A little,” David admits, wiping at tears. “I really didn’t mean to push you out, I was just trying to wake you up.”

“Well, that’s one way of doing it,” Patrick grumbles, rubbing at the back of his head dramatically. “I’m up now, what did you want?”

David pulls himself to the edge of the bed. Lying on his stomach he peers over it to look at his husband who is still sitting on the floor, seeming to petulantly remain as if to prove some sort of point. He leans over a little, resting his weight by placing one hand on the floor to hold himself up, and uses the other to cup Patrick’s face, kissing him soundly on the lips. 

“Come back to bed,” he mumbles, kissing him again and smiling when Patrick relaxes into it, his lips softening and mouth parting just slightly. “I’m sorry for overreacting.”

Patrick smiles even as he rolls his eyes and pushes David back to make room for himself under the covers. “Yeah, well, I’m sorry for being in a bad mood. It’s not your fault things kept going wrong.”

They settle into a familiar position; Patrick on his back with David tucked under his arm, head resting on his chest. He uses his proximity to kiss Patrick’s neck, biting it slightly in retribution for his bad mood, and then licking over it teasingly. 

“What did you say about sleeping angry?”

“I think the general rule is to _not_ go to sleep angry,” Patrick corrects softly, his hands dancing patterns across David’s face and back. 

“Yeah, that. I want to try that.”

They both drift off with comfortable smiles on their faces, wrapped up in each other's arms.

  
  
  


**12 Years**

“Do you reckon she was telling the truth?”

“What?”

“That woman today, that said our store was haunted.”

Patrick snorts, and David pulls the pillow out from under his head to hit him with it. He groans, holds his hands up in apology, and helps David get situated with it back under his neck. 

“Sorry, sorry. I thought you were kidding. You don’t believe in ghosts,” he says, turning onto his side to look at David. 

“I’ll have you know I’m a very spiritual person.”

“Sure,” Patrick accepts, leaning over and kissing him softly. He pulls David’s glasses off, reveling in the sight of him blinking dazedly without them. 

David had been putting off getting glasses for a long time, but when he finally admitted to needing them, he had committed to the aesthetic, choosing a pair of thick rimmed black ones and swearing off contact lenses due to the fear of them slipping backwards into his head. Patrick had a pair for reading, but didn’t need them all the time, although David constantly teased that he would soon enough. 

Patrick leans up on his elbow to carefully place the glasses on David’s bedside before returning for another open mouthed kiss.

“You can’t distract me like this,” David mutters even as he opens his mouth further and lets Patrick’s tongue swoop in. “Maybe we should get an exorcist, I’m pretty sure the church down the road offers them.”

“You’re Jewish.”

“Well maybe we’ll get one from each religion. Just to be safe.”

Patrick nods, faking sincerity. “Are you sure you’re not the one trying to distract yourself?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It’s not a big deal, David.”

“Shh, stop talking, you’re ruining the romance.”

Patrick pulls back, earning a dramatic whine from David who huffed and puffed like a child, and not a man that is turning 45 tomorrow.

“Come on, David. Look at it this way. Twelve years of bliss, and many more to come,” Patrick says against his lips. “And really, it’s not so bad. It’s only halfway to 90.”

“Right, okay, you’ve lost touching privileges.”

David pushes him lightly away but smiles as Patrick swoops in to kiss him again before reaching over to his own bedside table. He slips in his mouthguard and nose clip, settling down on the sheets with one arm behind his neck to hold him up. 

David curls up beside him, their heads resting close together on their pillows as they settle in for the night. 

“Goo’night David.”

“Goodnight Patrick.”

**Author's Note:**

> The Title is from I Want to Wake Up With You by Boris Gardiner! 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! 😴


End file.
